


The Late Evening

by SwiftSwagger



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: AFAB Bloodhound (Apex Legends), Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Dubious consent at first, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Humiliation, Intense Orgasms, Light Dom/sub, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Public Arousal, Public Humiliation, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, Revenge Sex, Squirting, Unknown voyeurism, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27359332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwiftSwagger/pseuds/SwiftSwagger
Summary: Prequel to 'The Early Morning', but can be read as a stand alone. Bloodhound seeks out Mirage after they can't seem to settle their nerves after an intense Apex game. It does not go as they intended, but they can't complain.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Reading 'The Early Morning' will give more context to the situation, but not much, so this can be read on its own. Bloodhound is AFAB, but part one will mention no reference of their gender so anyone that does not enjoy AFAB Bloodhound can safely read the first part. I really appreciate any criticism, I am constantly working to improve my writing and it really helps a lot. If there are any pronoun mistakes or things you feel need to be tagged please let me know! Translations at the end for Bloodhound.

Patience came naturally for Bloodhound. One of the many reasons they had been approached with the responsibility of greeting and showing the ropes to newly appointed legends. The hunter had a calmness that was sharpened from years of training in their childhood. They were proud of it, they worked for for it. Which was why when the calm would not settle over them as usual they started to grow frustrated.

Normally the last place Bloodhound would put themself after a successful match in the Apex games was at a crowded bar. There were a lot of sharpened senses still lingering on them that they should have been letting come down, but this restlessness drew them here. This would not be solved with a good nights rest or late hunt. The fight kept playing over in their mind and they were focused on one particular factor; Elliott Witt.

Stepping through the door to the Paradise Lounge the hunter was assaulted with indiscernible conversations and pungent smells. Coming in behind a thick clump of people and easily keeping to the shadowed edges of the building that were less traveled, going straight to a table he knew from observation was rarely used. Bloodhound watched now from that far corner, where the neon lights of orange and blue did not reach, finding him easily in the swarm if other people. He had lacked to notice the tracker's presence even after they had been sitting a while, but that was fine, they were getting to see how their partner could work a crowd.

Mirage had stationed himself at the island bar in the center of the establishment with a couple decoys and MRVN units. Watching Elliott made a smile appear under their mask. Enjoying how he flourished out napkins down a line of customers with quick flicks of his wrist like he was dealing cards at a casino, a robot following behind him placing tall glasses on top of each one. Pushing the bottom of a metal can against the palm of his hand in such a way that it sticks and looked like it was floating there as Mirage cracked it open, pouring some into each container. A trick Elliott had showed them how to do once, when they were first playing with the idea of flirting back at the man. Elliott balanced bottles on the back of his hands and arms, tossing them into the air and catching them to pour together lovely mixed drinks for all his patrons with the flare they all expected from him.

Mirage loved the attention and that showed in his smile, searching through the wave of customers and his eyes finally find their mask. A look of surprise, followed by a look of affection, and than excitement. He makes a little show of passing the drink shaker over to one of the robotic bartenders before disappearing with a split of doubles. Getting away was always easy for him.

"Well, hello, you look new in town? Hear about the legendary Mirage and had to come see for yourself, huh?" The familiar voice hits them first, turning their head up to see Mirage fade into view with a confident grin and cock to his hips. Lounging himself up against a nearby wall he tries to look just as appealing as he leans in to take a sip from his drink, missing the straw completely, and fumbling to get it into his mouth.

"I am certainly seeing _something_ , elskaður." Bloodhound had a soft spot for his antics, but with the mask blocking their finer facial expressions Elliott could not easily tell if they were enjoying the moment. They knew it was eating the other up not getting a clear reaction from them.

"Aw, come on, babe. You're supposed to play the part. Ya know, like we have never met before. Strangers that get the hots for each other right as their eyes meet. Makes it sexy. Uh, I think, at least that's what all the magazines say. Is this... Sexy?" Mirage had obviously had a couple drinks. The way he babbled get a soft sound of amusement from Bloodhound and that is all he needs to keep going, that grin coming back ten fold. "Yeah, you like it."

"Hálfviti, you know I like it. I like you." Hound replies with a more clear sound of fondness. Looking up at Elliott standing over them and that feeling comes again, like something is strumming over all the strings of their senses at once. A long, controlled breath leaves through their nose.

"What are you doin' here anyways? Ah, not that I want you to leave! No, I just- You don't normally come out and celebrate? So, it's kinda weird seeing you sitting here." Mirage gives him a raised brow, eyes peering over the bar to make sure no one realized the real deal was standing right here in plain sight.

"I had a theory I needed to test." The response is simple, said like they are shrugging the question off, but that makes Elliott more confused.

" _Theory_? Wow, Nox hit you that hard he rubbed off on you?" The man chuckles, but seeing only a stoic mask makes him quickly clear his throat and reconsider his joke. "What, uh, were you theori- thor- thinking about anyways?"

"I am having trouble calming myself after the battle." Bloodhound admitted after a short pause, gesturing to an open chair next to them. Mirage quickly obliges, a look of concern on his face that picks at their heart in a lovely way.

"You okay? I know that gas stuff can get pretty nasty, but I thought the medical team took care of all that. Reverse injuries and death- All that stuff. I-I think I got a number for them if you're not feeling right, or, " Mirage kept rambling, obviously letting the worry start to stew, pulling out his phone to start searching through the contacts. Hound's hand quickly covers the screen, pushing the device back down and leaning in closer.

"I am not injured, Elliott. I am... " A silence fills between them, not wanting to admit how they feel out loud in a populated bar. They tried finding a certain word in their native tongue that Elliott might have caught onto, but nothing came to mind they could guarantee he would understand. "...Bothered."

"You're... Bothered. Like, you're upset?" Elliott scoots in more, still not understanding.

Bloodhound shook their head, making a frustrated sound. Giving a quick scan around the premises the hunter grabs one of his hands and tugged him onto their thigh, squeezing around their hand to let his fingers dig into the meat of their leg. Taking a deep breath they speak slowly. " ** _Bothered_**."

"Oh.. Oooh." There is significantly more color coming to Mirage's cheeks as he takes a moment to process the conversation before that grin easily slides back. "Something I said?"

"Guð, something you did..." The tracker corrects softly. Letting their hand fall away and catching how Elliott looks at them. He does not seem to understand why Bloodhound is worked up, but he seems downright thrilled it has to do with him. "How you... slátra."

That perked up even more interest from Mirage, having heard that word enough times in the heat of battle to understand. The legend looks around the bar, taking another sip from his drink as he does, and glances back to Bloodhound. "Y-You, um... That _bothered_ from earlier today, huh?"

"Come upstairs." The lustful words are spoken hushed and quick, sending a chill right through Mirage that nearly makes him spill the drink from his mouth at the implications.

"R-Right now? I- Look, babe, I only just started this party. If I try slipping away now people are gonna notice. Wraith and Rampart would kill me if I went upstairs right now. They're already dealing with rowdy customers for me, if I bail I'm really gonna be on their shit list more than I already am." Elliott hears the sigh of disappointment from Bloodhound and tried salvaging something for later. "Hey, hey, hey- Look, I just have to stick around for a couple hours more, make sure things are winding down for the night. In the mean time, why don't you hit the bar? Try winding down a bit. Pour you one specially from me, give it that Witt flare. What do you say?"

Mirage was unfortunately right. They could not expect Elliott to just drop everything for their needs, even if that was their desire. The bar needed the positive attention and they knew Elliott could use any kind of extra money. Bloodhound nodded, letting out a light chuckle at the other. "All right. I will stick around, but no need to make me a drink... If I feel like I need a drink I will pour myself something, Allt í lagi?"

"That's the spirit! Oh, but if you are gonna go behind a bar, make sure to use the one over there." Elliott gestures to a corner of the building that lacked both bright lighting or occupants, it looked like it was being slowly repaired or remodeled. "Taps are out for the beer. Remember I told you about the lines bursting when we put in that fancy new co2 system? Turned out it was a crappy co2 system they sold me, and they're still busted on that one. Anyways, I know you don't drink that stuff, but there is a couple bottles I keep behind there for special occasions. So, have at it. We earned it! I'll check on you in a bit. Promise, babe."

With a playful wink Mirage disappeared again in a fizzle of blue and leaves behind a decoy that sits in his spot. They cross one leg over the other and give Bloodhound a quick scan up and down. "Of course, I can keep you company."

"I _highly_ doubt that. You have nothing to offer me but empty words." Bloodhound is very playful as they speak to the decoy, smirking under their mask.

"Well! Ya know what, I'm kinda hurt by that." The fake Elliott gives a frown and shields a hand over their terribly wounded heart. "Actually, I'm very hurt by that."

"Look at this! Your squeeze can't even be bothered t' sit with ya for real, Blood? Want me to knock some sense into that thick skull a' his?" Rampart's voice parted through the chatter and music of Paradise Lounge easily, coming right over to Bloodhound's table and making herself comfortable like they were old friends. They always appreciated that blind confidence in her, it won many battles.

"The offer is appreciated." The tone that the hunter uses and the way they cock their head towards the decoy makes the double of Elliott laugh nervously, an anxious look on their face before they feel it best to just disappear in a scatter of pixels. "But, I rather deal with him myself."

"Suit yourself, mate. Just do me a favor then? Beat down his ego a bit. I really think he might topple over this time with how big his head is getting." She tips back a pint of beer, just opening her throat to the chilled alcohol inside. Once she finishes off what remained in her mug she starts talking again, keen on keeping Bloodhound reeled into the conversation. "So, no drinks and no sweetheart. Bit of a shit celebration if I ever saw one."

"I do not drink often. And as for Elliott... I am waiting for an opportunity to pull him away for myself." Bloodhound admits this to Rampart effortlessly, not caring if Elliott's roommate knew their intentions were sexual. She had to hear at least some of their couplings now and again. Really, if it were not for the mask, anyone in the bar would be able to tell what they were there for. Their eyes following Mirage around like an owl stalking a mouse.

"Ooooh~ You're here trying to get a good root, eh?" Parekh cackles a bit, scooting herself in closer to Bloodhound and trying to keep the gossip low, even if her voice is loud from the alcohol in her system. "So, what's the plan of attack?"

The hunter finds themself suddenly distracted from watching Mirage, quickly looking at Rampart in obvious surprise. Though she can't see their face she understands immediately, waving her hand around dismissively and rolling her eyes.

"Oh, cut the crap. I've heard you both plenty of times. The bathroom is right by Witt's room and let me tell you the walls are thin enough your screwing gets out. You're not going to tell me anything I don't already know. So, spill the beans. I'll even throw in my two cents!" Rampart is looking at them expectedly.

Well, so much for being discreet. 

"I... Do not have a plan. I am simply waiting for an opportunity to present itself." Admitting that out loud Bloodhound realizes they should have came up with something. The lust truly clouds their head too much, it was not fitting of them. Elliott is notoriously weak to their sexual advances too. If they had pushed a bit harder they might have got what they wanted, now he is lost to the crowd again for who knew how long.

"Well, tell you what. Let me get another pint and we'll think of one together. What do you say, Blood?"

_______

Four hours later Elliott realizes how terribly he miscalculated the evening. Bloodhound has been waiting a lot longer than he originally intended. One minute he was finishing up entertaining a small group at one of the bars and the next minute Elliott had a huge mass of people flooding through the doors. People were getting off work, other places of business were closing up for the night, and folks were catching the end of the game again as it reran. In retrospect Mirage should have just let himself get dragged upstairs for a while and came down later, or closed a bit earlier, because now he had gotten stuck chatting with complete strangers for so long he does not even see Bloodhound anymore. Something that is eating at the man as he is huddled up against a wall with Wraith taking a break.

"This is really it." The man whines, doe eyes slowly searching through the bar as he nurses a drink. "They're definitely gonna leave me this time. I-I know it. I fucked up, I fucked up biiiig time. The news is gonna have a field day, Wraith. Elliott Witt single again, can't keep a single relationship going in his life! Ha!"

"You're over reacting." Wraith shakes her head slightly, giving his chest a hearty tap with the back of her hand. Her tone is stern yet kind. "I told you, I saw them twenty minutes ago. They probably went to get some fresh air for a minute, you know how they get in crowded buildings like this. Drink your water."

The trickster narrows his eyes, taking another drink from the water with a little lemon wedge inside it. After remembering he failed to check in as promised at the three hour mark and not spotting the legend in the bar anymore he dove into his drinks a bit harder than intended. Nothing that was unhandlable, Mirage was a bit drunk, but he knew better than to tip into that territory any further with all these people around. least he get a loose mouth and starts telling strangers about his personal business with Bloodhound. That would get him in some serious trouble.

"Hey ya Witt! What's with the sourpuss look? She stop your fun and make ya hydrate yourself?" Rampart approaches the pair with her usual boisterous attitude, but she seems in a much better mood than she was earlier that night. Something Mirage is subconsciously suspicious about.

"You seen Bloodhound? Elliott just got away and wanted to check in..." Wraith questions Rampart, eyes searching around the place herself, frowning deeper when she spotted more people walking inside. They needed to hire some extra hands for nights like this.

"Ah, Blood! We finished having a chat a while ago. I thought I heard 'em say something about mixing up a drink, said you had special bottles for them tucked away somewhere, but they never came back. You hiding the good stuff on me so I don't drink it all?" Parekh is smiling too much, watching too closely at Elliott's reaction. Wraith notices and eyes her suspiciously.

The man seems to relax at hearing that though. Slumping his shoulders down as a strain leaves him. Looking over at the shady bar he had pointed out earlier to Bloodhound, seeing a couple bottles and glasses on the counter that were not there before.

"See. They're around." Wraith reassures him, nudging into his shoulder with hers.

"Wait for 'em by the bar! They can't have ran off too far, and mix me something nice as a thank you!" The modder starts sneaking back into the crowd after planting the idea in Mirage's head. It was that kind of talk that made Wraith want to follow.

"Well, it's not a terrible idea. Take a break with them, will you? I'll put in a request for some extra hands tonight, we can handle the place without you for a while." The woman smiles just slightly, giving Elliott a couple brief taps on the shoulder before trailing after Rampart. She had a couple questions for her.

Mirage is distracted and tries finishing the rest of his water like a shot, forgetting that there was a lemon wedge inside and nearly swallowing the whole chunk. Sputtering a bit he quickly escapes off to the abandoned bar having a coughing fit along the way. He tries hitting a couple people with some charming finger-guns and smiles, but it's hard to look good when he is choking on his own stupidity.

Making it over Elliott immediately goes to the nearest sink. Running the cold water and stinking his head down to catch the spray coming out of the faucet, drinking away the tickling sensation in his throat. Turning off the water Elliott rises with a sigh and turns to look at the bottles Bloodhound had been perusing through. Stepping up to the counter Mirage starts scanning over the labels, trying to put together something for Rampart while he had the foresight. Reaching for a bottle he catches something out of the corner of his eyes. Looking down just in time to see a quick snippet of gloved hands coming from the dark depths underneath the countertop, they quickly snatch his hips before he can react. The first instinct Elliott has is to laugh things off, try and play the joke card even though he is panicking on the inside. Trying to stumble himself back from a strong grip. "W-Woah, hey, I-I appreciate the offer but I am definitely not single enough for this and you **really** don't wanna piss off my partner."

The man attempts to sound confident, but that is out of the window the second he looks down and gets a look at who is underneath the bar. Staring with wide eyes at Bloodhound's very cruel smirk. "Hou-!"

"Look up before they see you staring." Bloodhound's voice is a dangerously low purr that he almost misses and Elliott jerks his head up quickly. Looking with wide and terrified eyes out over the bar. No one has noticed him. Everyone just seems occupied with each other and their drinks, but now he is aware of just how packed the place is.

He does not dare look down again, but the image is burned into his mind. That excited smirk, lips barely parted. Their mouthpiece hangs around their neck. The glossy red of their goggles reflecting his look of shock back at him. He could just spy the others pale, thickly scarred skin. Something that had been running through his mind since their conversation earlier. The back of Elliott's neck is searing hot as he feels a hand go for his zipper and realizes this isn't some fan trying to get lucky, this is his partner trying to do this.

They are whispering something up at them, but he can't hear them anymore. It isn't the loud noises of the bar but the blood rushing in his ears. Elliott catches a small snippet about 'waiting' and 'taking'. The poor man is left standing there with his mouth cracked open and throat dry as the zipper is pulled down and his cock springs out- Shit, when did he get hard? Why was he _this_ hard?

Mirage grips the neck of a liquor bottle, doesn't know where to put his eyes as he feels a pair of lips smudge up against the tip of his cock. He catches the eyes of a customer and a breath leaves him in a jarring huff, quickly looking elsewhere. Mirage feels utterly humiliated in this moment. Leaning into the counter Mirage flicks his hand off to the side to have a decoy join him, that way he was not ranting to the open air and attracting more attention to himself. The hunter below is mouthing every available surface, slowly working out a little bead of precum from his slit.

"I am going to get fired! And I can't even be fired, I own the bar! There are hundreds of people in here right now, are you crazy? Are you even listening to me right now!" Mirage is staring at the decoy and desperately venting through their embarrassment. The other Mirage, to their credit, is trying their best to keep a straight face. Nodding along and gesturing around like it was a normal conversation.

Obviously there was no response. Elliott can only lean further into the bar, elbows braced there in what he hopes is a relaxed looking position. Bloodhound is lathering the tip of his prick with attention usually only warranted after he had gone and teased the other. A kind of feverish and frisky lapping, sliding their tongue around and tickling the fat flare of his head. Teasing at the sensitive underside with kittenish licks. The man has to stomp a foot into the ground to keep it together. A muffled groan is in his throat, and he knows he looks like an idiot to anyone that can see.

"Hey, uh, don't freak out.. But your roomie is comin' over here. Twelve o' clock." The decoy speaks up. Mirage gives himself whiplash looking up from the bar, at some point he had just hung his head down and hoped for the best.

"Wiiitt!" Rampart is wearing the grin of someone who won the lottery twice in one week, stepping up to an empty seat and slinging herself into it. Setting down a large empty glass and drink shaker in front of him, that makes him more confused than scared she might notice. "I feel like I haven't seen you all night. Getting ready to mix my special drink I see."

"Now is really, really not a good time." Mirage's voice is more guttural, swallowing down more mortifying noises.

"Actually, a little birdie told me earlier now would be a great time." The way Rampart knocks against the wooden counter perkily a couple times has Elliott red from his ears to his shoulders. She knew the compromising situation he was in and was joining in on his misfortune. Did Wraith know too? Did anyone else? Why is the thought terrifying _and_ arousing!

"So, where is the drink for my troubles?"

" ** _Troubles_**?!" Mirage grits out, tugging the bottle to his chest in a protective cradle. It was the only thing keeping him grounded right now as Bloodhound started wrapping that warm mouth around his head. The tongue spreading out against the underside and swishing back and forth slowly, giving a short suck before popping off and repeating the entire thing again.

"Let's just say I passed along a couple ideas and I'm here to collect my half of the bargain. And you still owe me for the whole uprooting all of my personal belongings and losing them in a rocket incident." The woman has a cocksure smile, loafing in the chair like she owned the place. She signals to the arrangement on the table. "My drink, Witt."

"Huh... That explains why you've been in such a pleasant mood all night." The decoy comments, earning a smack from Elliott that goes flying right through them in a swish of light before they reconfigure themself.

Mirage doesn't say anything, but opens the lid of the drink shaker with an aggressive tug. Rampart reclines back and watches with more amusement than she should be allowed. There is no showmanship of any kind with this drink, just him keeping a trained eye on his unsteady hands. Watching as the liquor bottle shakes, the spout of alcohol trembling as it pours. Bloodhound's mouth is bobbing on him, tongue cradling around the hard flesh. He can feel drool start dripping down the underside, some slip down to his balls and the rest is wetting the front of his clothing. Elliott almost drops the next bottle as he feels them hollow their cheeks and twist their head a bit. He forgoes measuring anything out, there was not any point with how he was pouring. Shaking the drink is his saving grace in this moment. The vigorous movement lets him release some energy and focus on something besides the mouth on his dick. The flustered feeling makes his stomach tight, he refuses to look the modder in the eyes, and instead looks a crossed the bar. Big mistake. Mirage locks eyes with Wraith. She is staring at all of them with a trained deadpan expression, but he can see the barest color of pink on her cheeks. The knots in his stomach get far worse. Anyone but her, please.

The trickster quickly grabs the tall glass, pulls off part of the shaker and pours through the filter there. A bit of the mixed drink spills down the sides as he shakes, breathing quickly. The drink is a bright green thing with a fizzy white top and smells like paint thinner. Mirage slams the shaker down and pushes the drink towards Rampart. 

"How about some cherries on top?" 

"Go. Away." He barely grits out.

Parekh laughs, finding her joke quite funny. Taking the freshly made drink she takes a sip and gives an approving nod. Giving Elliott a soft mutter of words with a little spite in them before leaving the bar. "Hey, it's nothing personal."

"Aw, man... She's still really mad. Should have seen that coming." The double muttered, taking in the situation they crouched down on the balls of their feet. Coming face to face with Bloodhound's uncovered mouth rocking back and forth eagerly on Mirage. A low whistle leaves them, admiring the view. "Boy, sure looks like you're having fun down here... Ya know, you can try to pretend you feel a little bad? He's barely holding it together up there."

The decoy just chuckles and shakes their head, spotting how Hound has their hand tucked between their legs. "We'll get you back later, sweetheart. Enjoy yourself."

Coming back up the double leans themself back on the bar in solidarity with Elliott, who has his mouth pressed up against the rim of a drink they poured while they were checking in with Bloodhound. He is staring out into the crowd, but he is clearly not there anymore. The glass is trembling lightly in his hand. "Aw, come on. This isn't the weirdest thing we've gotten up to, man. Remember that time with the Khionan mush-"

"Don't you dare bring that up r- Shit." A whimper helplessly bubbles up from Mirage's throat into the glass. Brows knitting together in clear pleasure, he quickly tips the drink back to start swallowing the liquor down to cover it up. He can feel the tracker's mouth covering him further and further down the length, reaching down a hand to fumble a crossed the top of their helmet before grabbing onto a ridge in the back. At least that made Hound more desperate, their movements becoming quick and sloppy. Mirage could not decide if this was a good thing or not.

Doing this in front of other people had eaten away at his normal stamina. The sensation of his muscles going taunt and balls pulling tight was troubling. Hanging onto the helmet Elliott shifts himself forward, letting himself get lost in all the bumps and softness of their mouth. His cock throbs in Bloodhound's mouth as he finishes the last bit of the drink and all he can think of his how thankful he is this is almost over. Putting the glass down Mirage comes face to face with a single light of bright yellow.

"Best friend!"

"Pathfinder!" Elliott cries down somewhere between a yelp and knee. The man's grin is terribly strained and he feels more sweat gathering on his back from how nervous he is. The terrified feeling of being caught snatches him away from the tipping point. It feels almost painful. "Y-You have such great timing, buddy!"

"What are you doing here!" The other Elliott tries deflecting Pathfinder's attention, looking just as awkward as the real Elliott.

"I do have great timing, best friend! Having an internal alarm clock it is impossible for me to have bad timing. Also, you look like you are in massive amounts of pain!" Pathfinder innocently cocks his head with a soft sound of swirling gears, eye adjusting to a smaller size like he was getting a better look at Mirage's face.

"Thank you so much for that, bud. R-Really boosts my confidence." Mirage is straining to stay upright, the hand going from the back of their helmet down to their shoulder. He squeezes hard. 

"You're welcome! And I was requested to come here!" Pathfinder puts his hands on his hips, turning around to do a once over on the bar, before returning to face Elliott again. "Your win looks like it was good for business. Wraith said she would need my help tonight, so here I am!"

The big yellow smile emote displays on Pathfinder's screen and he gives Mirage a thumbs up. The man can't even bring himself to try faking a smile anymore. Being reminded of Wraith is terrible and out of anyone that could have came here, it had to be the robot. "Th-that is, s-s-so great. It's.. really great. Um, listen, Path, I'm-I'm-"

"Dealing with a hang over! And migraine! Both, right now. Really bad, so-" The double tries their hardest to deal with the modified MRVN unit, but he seems determined to keep sticking around.

"Oh no!" The emote screen quickly changes to one of sadness. "But do not fear, for I have a solution! I know how to make a 'mean' bloody mary, and do not worry it is not actually mean, it cures hang overs! At least that is what I am told!"

"Gr-Great!" Elliott squeaks out, face flushing as he suddenly feels the hunter's nose burying into his pubic hair. A rhythmic swallowing starts around him that makes him slap his free hand down onto the bar. "You go do that!"

"I sure will!" Pathfinder starts walking away, a temporary feeling of relief comes to Mirage, before he realizes that he is heading behind **this** bar.

"Wait! Wait-wait-wait." Mirage realizes he is talking much too loudly and it's drawing attention, which only adds to the tightening in his stomach. Please, not while this many people are looking.

Pathfinder stops dead in his tracks the second he hears the other, turning back to face him with that sad emote returning. "Are you okay?"

"I'm actually feeling so much better now that you're here. Isn't that something? That's crazy. Isn't it? Um, god- Path! I! Wanted to tell you something." Mirage is digging through his brain for an idea, any kind of idea. But he can only think of one, and he hates himself for having his brain scrambled up right now. "Re-Remember my singing rule?"

"I sure do! Pathfinder, that's me, is strictly forbidden from ever trying to entertain the customers at Paradise Lounge with that 'so called singing'." Pathfinder repeats what Elliott said the last time this topic was brought up, finger quotes and all. He doesn't have time to feel bad about that right now.

"It was sarcasm!" Elliott tries to shove Bloodhound back, but just ends up with a hand coming trough the zipper of his holosuit. Gloved fingers cradling at his drool covered sack. 

"You mean I can sing for everyone?!" The excitement comes to the robot immediately. Hearts filling the screen on his chest as he claps his metal hands together, tapping happily back and forth on his feet.

"Yup! R-Right now actually!" Poor Mirage has to press his forehead against the counter, his double quickly vaulting over the counter to distract Pathfinder who almost reaches out to hug the other man.

"They look like they need a good karaoke night, don't they? I think they do. Just, go way over there, on the opposite side of the bar. And uh, we'll get all these lights on you. Tell your other robot friends that. Sing all night long! Have at it!" Elliott can not express the amount of pressure that eases off him as he hears Pathfinder jogging happily towards the other corner of the bar. He doesn't expect much, but is happy when after a moment all the lights dim down to make anything in the building barely even visible and the few ceiling lights turn onto Pathfinder.

The light squeeze around his balls is what brings the trickster back to reality. Sucking in a harsh breath and reaching up to grip both hands against the edge of the counter, just hanging on for the ride at this point. Everyone is thoroughly distracted and amused by the MRVN starting to play a catchy popular tune and basically happily speaking out the lyrics rather than anything close to singing.

"H-Hound..." Mirage can't imagine they can hear his plead over all the noise, but they pick up on something. Because suddenly there are two hands aggressively gripping against his hips, it only takes a single encouraging pull and Mirage is fucking into Bloodhound's mouth in quick thrust. The pleasure builds up quicker than before, having been brought up and denied so many times.

The tip slips into their open throat, feeling how they swallow greedily, and he grunts roughly. Feeling as the orgasm rushes through him out of nowhere. His eyes are wide, staring into the dimness of the lounge with a hundred worried thoughts running through his mind. What if someone was watching him, what if they could tell what was happening. Were Rampart or Wraith still staring? The adrenaline makes him almost let out a sound, skin both cold with sweat and hot with fear at the same time. He is still on a high even as he stops cumming. The hands giving comforting rubs into his weak legs are barely felt, only noticing when Bloodhound finally closes him back up, and slips from underneath the bar when a louder section of the song starts and people start getting into the entertainment.

"Þú gerðir gott fyrir mig, elskaður. Next time do not make me wait so long." The hunter's whispers are thick with lust, their mouthpiece already back in place. It disappoints Elliott because he just wants to kiss them, be close and feel them. Bloodhound goes to move away, to leave Elliott there in some kind of post-orgasm shock. He watches them, feels the disappointment turn to shame, shame to lust, and than something between that and wrath. The feeling of Revenge, he thinks, and understands Rampart a bit better now. 

There is a decoy that comes to life in front of Bloodhound with a grin and waggle of their finger, crossing their arms. The tracker opens their mouth to mock them brashly, high off their own adrenaline rush, but instead their skin pricks with excitement at a strong grip to the back of their jacket. "Hey now, what'd I say before? We gotta get you back, sweetheart."


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading 'The Early Morning' will give more context to the situation, but not much, so this can be read on its own. I really appreciate any criticism, I am constantly working to improve my writing and it really helps a lot. If there are any pronoun mistakes or things you feel need to be tagged please let me know! Translations at the end for Bloodhound.

In hindsight Bloodhound should have struggled a bit more when Elliott started pulling them towards the stairs by the grip of their jacket. There was a possibility civilians had caught that glimpse of vulnerability in them, it made their entire body crawl with a more intense fever thinking about it.

Mirage was demonstrating a rare fit of something... Definitely not anger. Anger was not the right word to use. Something that could not be described in one word. A sudden passionate burst of emotions that were lustful, fuming, and demanding all wrapped up in one package. Bloodhound was pretty sure they were falling in love with him all over again as Elliott got to the top of the stairs, pushed into the nearest room, and shoved them roughly into a wall.

Nothing was spoken between the pair. Just the noises of heavy breathing, the muffled hum and thump of loud music below their feet. Mirage's hands reach to jerk open the clips that secure their mouthpiece. The moment the warm air hits their mouth Elliott is invading that space, swallowing up a gasp with his mouth.

He steals their breath away with how skilled his tongue is. Making Bloodhound's chest rise and fall shallower as he kisses them deeply. Mirage tastes like a sharp bite of alcohol and an inkling of mint chap-stick he was found of wearing. The hunter's own mouth is pungent with cum, something that makes Elliott moan unabashed into the cavern of their mouth. A hand is at their face again in an instant, unclasping their helmet to clatter to the ground unceremoniously, the goggles following with a rough pull over their head.

Elliott leaves the kiss almost to spite Bloodhound's neediness and looks at them with knitted brows. Their eyes are looking back, but with an unfocused haze, head leaned back into the wall. There are impressions on their face left behind from the tight straps of the mask, but it's hardly noticeable with the thick webbing of scars. Hound's face had always reminded him of marble. A kind of haunting beauty, especially right now with their mouth and chin still sticky with spit from earlier.

"This what you wanted so bad, Hound?" Mirage asks, emphasizing the words with a hard press of his hips against theirs. The other legend jolts and hisses. Their eyes squeeze shut and they let their head roll to the side, a breathless sound escaping them. Everything is electrifying to the touch. "What happened to all that patience is key stuff you're always lecturing me about, huh? Talk all that talk, but can't walk the walk when you're horny? Come on, Hound, talk to me."

"Neyddu mig." Bloodhound's voice has that slight rasp, more heavy with arousal with the taste of sex on their tongue. With an out of breath laugh they open their eyes to start teasing Elliott only to realize what room they are standing in, the dark eyes of the hunter go large and their mouth gapes slightly.

"Uh-huh, not gonna smart mouth us now, are ya?" There is a decoy propped up against the huge glass paneling that makes up one entire wall of the room, more specifically they were where Rampart did most of her weapon modifications. There is a large table dirty with wrenches, cigarettes, and piles of blueprints. Cables and power tools are hung on the opposite side of the wall put away for the night. The entire room is bathed in a deep orange light from the neon lettering installed on the other side.

Bloodhound knows that while they could see out over the whole establishment, anyone below would only see the dark black glass and bright signage. Knowing that does nothing to slow their breathing and for a moment the cocky facade starts to crumble back on Mirage. The man has a soft heart and can normally not keep up a dominate front for very long because of it.

"Hey, um.. We don't have to do anything if you're not com-" The kindness of the other just flares up even more passion from Bloodhound and they turn back to crash their mouths together. Mirage smiles into the kiss, deepens it for a moment, a happy hum leaving him. That was all the permission he needed to feel better about proceeding.

"Come here then, babe." Mirage encourages the tracker to move with him, walking over to one of the large panels in the middle of the wall. Studying the reflection of Hound's face as he turned them around to face the packed bar.

"Like looking down at everyone?" The decoy asks curiously, approaching the table just behind the couple to sit down. Bloodhound nods slowly, the pulse in their neck sharpening as Mirage pulls aside the velcro that hides the zipper of their jacket.

"Gonna let them all watch you, honey?" Elliott speaks in a low voice, slowly letting the zipper drag down. The weight of the jacket lets it slide off their shoulders where Elliott removes the clothing, setting it aside to leave Bloodhound standing in their usual combat pants and a tight fitted tank-top. That is when he takes their hands and brings them up to the glass, pressing them into the cool surface. There was no real danger of being spotted up here, but it was fun pretending. "It's only fair, right? You made them all watch me."

"He's right you know, making him have to stand there like that. Shame on you." The duplicant teases from behind them, encouraging the mood.

"Now they get to watch you enjoy yourself." Mirage wraps an arm around their waist, briefly kisses their nearest arm and carcasses their tummy before dipping the hand down the front of their pants.

"Holy shit." The trickster is left sounding a bit surprised, fingers barely making it past a bit of hair before coming in contact with a thick slickness. Bloodhound's face goes flushed, a short puff of air leaving them as Elliott wiggles his fingers further down. Smearing through sloppily wet folds and bumping into their clit plump with arousal.

"Oh? How wet are they?" The double asks, just as interested in the state Bloodhound's put themself in as the real Elliott was, they just had a lack of interactions they could do.

"Soaked. Jesus, Hound.. If I knew you liked doing that I would have let you do it sooner. Pref- Praf- Ideally when there's a bit fewer people in the bar." Mirage starts slowly jerking over their clit while his other hand pushes and bunches up the top-tank above their chest. Looking at the image of their toned and scarred body in the glass. Cupping his hand over one of the small mounds he squeezes lightly, letting their nipple play between his fingers for a while before tweaking the little bar of metal pierced through the nub.

"You know how lucky you are, right?" The hologram sighs, watching with a dreamy smile.

"Yes"   
"Já."

Speaking over one another the couple both end up laughing in the heat of the moment. Elliott coming up closer behind them to press his erection against their rear and kiss between their shoulder blades, grinding himself forward for a little relief. The laughter from Bloodhound is quickly choked out by a shaky moan as his hand starts to pick up the pace.

"Aw, well, aren't you two cute. Now I feel like I'm interrupting." 

"Stay." Bloodhound is quick to speak up before the hologram disappears. The duplicant watches their head turn, the warmth of their skin fogging up the glass as they lean heir cheek into it. "I like it when you watch us."

The real Elliott can't help himself. Turning his head to the double, giving a waggle of his brows and a cheesy wink. The decoy hops down off the workbench and slowly approaches Bloodhound, perching themself against the glass near their face.

" _I_ think you like it when we get talking." The decoy teases.

"Mmhm, you like it when we're both complimenting you?"

"Got aaaall the attention in the room on you, don't ya?"

"Because there isn't anyone more attractive than you right now, babe."

The legend starts going tight all over, their muscles flexing in their stomach and eyes on the verge of rolling back. The approaching feeling is almost overstimulating before its even came. 

"Yeah? Gonna cum just from his fingers? Barely even touched you and you're a mess."

"Come on, baby, I know you wanna for me."

Mirage feels the other start that familiar shake and let out the telltale yell that signals their orgasm. Quickly dropping down an arm to wrap around their middle, feeling how their abs flexed against his limb and their clit jerks hurriedly between his fingers. They start to Jolt in little spasms, eyes shut firmly and face scrunched up in what can only be described as a feeling of rapture. Hound lifts from the ground so only their toes are touching before almost folding in half. Luckily Elliott had the foresight to hold their waist, he had learned from past mistakes. The man is left feeling and watching them through the orgasm. Probably one of his favorites things to experience with the other. Smiling to himself as they twitch and tweak around, muttering in broken words of their native tongue.

"Made you wait too long, didn't I? Then you went and worked yourself up even more. Won't do that to you again. Promise. Hey, I got you, I got you. Keep cumming for me, Hound." Elliott sweet talks Bloodhound in a hushed voice, kissing the side of their neck as he sneakily pushes further down. Letting two fingers slip inside just to feel the way their pussy wrenches and squeezes at his fingers. A feeling he is looking forward to.

"How you feeling, sweetheart?" The double finally speaks up, having been enjoying the view instead of talking.

"Vinsamlegast ekki hætta. Vinsamlegast, vinsamlegast, vinsamlegast." Bloodhound pleads when they find the energy in them. "Fokk mér." 

"Well, I know one of those words." The decoy says cheekily.

"Mmhm, me too." Mirage pulls the hand carefully from Bloodhound's pants, quickly tugging open the belt and unbuttoning the clothing. The pants fall down in a heap, followed by their ruined underwear. Elliott tried stepping on the heel of their boot to pry it off, but Bloodhound has their damn boots laced up like their life depended on it.

"Dammit, hold on.." Mirage grumbles, sinking to the floor and starting the process of trying to undo the tight network of laces and double knots. "See if I could figure out that upgrade you could be doing this for me."

"Me?" The duplicant laughs, stepping closer to admire the shine to the hunter's pale skin and the glistening hair on their mound. Hound is breathing quickly, eyes wild, and they smile fondly at the double. They smile right back, coming in to bump noses cutely with them. "I wouldn't be using an upgrade like that for touching boots, you and me both know that."

Mirage playfully rolls his eyes, tugging off the boots and striping away the remaining tangle of clothing around their ankles. The tracker is waiting impatiently for Mirage and when they do not feel his touch come back they look down a bit confused and grumpy. Seeing the man sitting there with his chin perched in his palm, having a tranquil look on his face and just seeming to be looking at Bloodhound.

"Have I ever, uh, told you how much I love you?" Elliott starts and Bloodhound just huffs with a smile, having calmed down a bit from the wait, they shake their head to humor him because they know where that line is going.

"Haven't I, Hound? Swear I have. Haven't I told you how much I love yoouurr... Toes." Mirage starts somewhere as far away from his goal as possible. Sliding his hand up one of their feet and cupping over the ankle with a light squeeze.

"Or, your legs..." Each hand is trailing over their legs, fingers brushing into the toned muscle and through the dark red hair there. Bloodhound trembles and looks down at him, chewing at their lower lip.

"Love your thighs, can't forget your thighs." Elliott smirks, leans in to kiss at one thigh, than the other. The taste of their musk is on his lips and it makes him lean up further to smooch right over their perked clit. The simple gesture earns a soft noise and twitch. "Really love this too, one of my favorites. Not my most favorite though."

Mirage shifts to his knees as he kisses up the dip of their hip. Standing up as he pecks up their stomach. "Love all this..."

"These are definitely in the top three." Bloodhound puffs out a laugh and closes their eyes when they feel Elliott take one of their nipples into his mouth. Teeth playing with the metal bar and tugging around, smoothing a tongue over the sensitive nub when he finishes.

Mirage is slowly drowning them in attention. Being sure to step back to kiss at each hand pressed against the wall, down one of their arms, and briefly smooch on their shoulder and neck. Finally both hands are cupped around either side of Bloodhound's face. "This right here, this is my favorite. Got all the smarts up here. Good conversation. Can't live my life without it. Stops me from making stupid decisions and boosts my confidence."

"You are too much." Bloodhound murmurs, eyes lidded and full of affection.

"Actually, I like to think I'm _just_ enough for you to handle." Elliott winks, bumping their noses together before tilting his head to kiss them again. It's deep and swells with intimacy. Elliott flicks his wrist a bit and the duplicant that is watching is happy to disappear for the night. It would make things a bit more personal between him and Hound.

"Stay right here." He whispers after breaking the kiss, stepping around and positioning himself behind Bloodhound like before. Looking out over the bar Bloodhound can see all the people again, all their eyes, some of them are glancing up at the glass. The hunter swallows and spreads their legs a bit.

Mirage is slowly thumbing over the opening of their pussy, circling gently around the folds while unzipping himself. Elliott can feel there is no need for lubrication. Each time he passes over their folds he almost slips inside without even trying. Bloodhound bends more towards the glass, exposing more of their cunt. It's an invitation that is gladly accepted. Shifting up closer and using his hand to guide himself inside.

Just as expected there isn't the slightest resistance. Just a single pulse that greets him as he sinks halfway inside, another grips his cock once he is completely seated. Elliott likes to think he will never grow tried of this feeling, not with Hound, that doesn't seem possible.

"Elliott, Vinsamlegast."

Mirage silently nods, pulling out slowly to watch the drag of their cunt around him, pushing back inside a little quicker and being rewarded with a moan. Mirage repeats the movement again, and again. Picking up the pace his his thrusts each time Bloodhound gives him a pleased noise. Eventually Elliott is fucking them with quick thrusts, filling the workshop with wet slaps of skin on skin. The man isn't silent himself either. Something the tracker always relishes in. The room is filling with his gasps, groans, and whines. While Hound can get a bit noisy themself Elliott is almost always the more vocal one.

"Damn you feel good. God, Hound, I-I don't think you've ever- fuck- been this wet before. So damn warm too. Shit, babe." The rambling between loud groans makes the hunter bite their lip, feeling that pulse start in their pussy only after a couple minutes of being fucked. Their hips kink back, toes curling into the metal floor. Hound's chanting sounds of pleasure getting louder very rapidly. Elliott notices through his pleasure, wrapping one arm a crossed their waist and the other a crossed their chest to their shoulder.

They jerk suddenly, hands sliding down the glass in a long squeak. Bloodhound can't even see anything in front of them anymore, their breathing and body heat fogging up the panel completely. Elliott has a very strong hold on them and even through their fit of convulsions they stay right on his cock, getting fucked through the pleasure and starting to peak over into something more intense. Hound can't even think straight anymore.

"Sit up." Mirage's voice is rough and commanding, pulling Bloodhound up by the chest and shoving them against the glass. They breath sharply, breasts squished up against the wall. Pinning between the wall and Mirage's rabbit thrusts. The arm around their waist leaves and fumbles with grabbing one of their legs, yanking the limb up into the air. Sending that thick cock into their depths even further.

"E-Elli-iii-ooottt!" Bloodhound knees loudly and starts feeling a different kind of pressure in their groin, but the strangeness of it doesn't occur to them with that approaching bliss. The tracker's legs jerk to try and close, their eyes going wide as thy feel a much more intense rush come over them. Yelling against the glass as another abrupt orgasm hits them, the sound of something wet splashing against the glass fills the room but neither of them notice. Elliott starts moving more sloppily, kissing all over their shoulder and neck. He is spilling all kinds of sweet promises and dirty words into their ear before tensing up behind them, pressing them harder into the wall.

"Oooh shit. Love you, Love you s-so much." The words are hastily spoken and dripping with adoration. The cock inside them joining in their quick jerks, filling them with warmth and adding to the mess dripping down their thighs. Despite Elliott having stopped the other legend is still having post orgasm waves, still fluttering around the length and quivering in his arms. Mirage is kind enough to slowly set their leg down.

"Christ, lemme-" The trickster shifts back, pulling out, and he sighs with relief. "Aah. That's better, gonna take the poor guy off if you keep- ...Woah."

"Mm?" Bloodhound questions, looking back at Elliott. Seeing him staring at the glass with red cheeks. They raise a brow, briefly thinking somehow people were staring at them, and glancing over to the wall. No one was remotely looking in their direction, but the lower panel in front of them was covered in a clear fluid that streaked down to a small puddle on the floor.

"Did you!-" Mirage sounds **way** too giddy. "You did! I made you! Ha!"

Processing the fact that, yes, they did indeed squirt at some point Bloodhound just stares at the mess. So much for beating down that Witt ego. Tiredly reaching behind them Hound grabs Elliott's clothing and pulls him close again.

This seems to settle Mirage, letting out a pleased hum and leaning into their body. Hugging them snugly from behind. "I, uh.. Did a good job then? Worth all that waiting and fussing after all?"

"Já." They sigh, nuzzling back into him with a content smile. "Þú gerir það alltaf ... Elska þig, Elliott."

"Love you too.. You.. did say I love you, right? I think I'm starting to pick up that one. I think?" 

"Heh, yes. You are picking up on things, elskaður." Hound turns their head to look at them, eyes hooded and soft. Mirage has the same look, leaning in to rest his chin on their shoulder. "... I think I will stay here tonight. If you do not mind."

"Hey, told ya before, my door is always open to you. Was gonna ask you anyways. Could use the cuddling, and uh, maybe even give you a leg rub for standing here all night. How's that sound?"

"That sounds perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kodus, it helps motivate me a lot.
> 
> Neyddu mig.(Make me.)
> 
> Já.(yes)
> 
> Vinsamlegast ekki hætta. Vinsamlegast, vinsamlegast, vinsamlegast.(Please don't stop. Please, please, please.)
> 
> Fokk mér.(Fuck me.)
> 
> Elliott, Vinsamlegast .(Elliott, please.)
> 
> Þú gerir það alltaf ... Elska þig, Elliott. (You always do... Love you, Elliott.)
> 
> elskaður.(beloved.)

**Author's Note:**

> elskaður(beloved)
> 
> Hálfviti (idiot)
> 
> Guð(Gods)
> 
> slátra(Slaughter)
> 
> Allt í lagi?(Okay)
> 
> Þú gerðir gott fyrir mig, elskaður.(You did good for me, beloved.)


End file.
